All of Me (18 page)

Fishing in her pocket, she hastily drew out her cell and stared at the screen before answering. Whoever she was talking to didn’t stay on the line very long. Soon, her excitement was cast aside by disappointment and she hung up. Her shoulders slumped. Her head bowed.

Alec had seen her do this more times than he had fingers and toes to count. No doubt, it was her parents calling for their mundane weekly check-in.

The fucking shitheads. What in the hell was wrong with those people? To treat a daughter that way? Their flesh and blood. How could you look at something so beautiful, so goddamn sweet his teeth ached, that they themselves had created, and not love her?

Alec’s baby had been nothing more than tissue when Laura miscarried, but he loved that little mass with all he had, and he hadn’t ever gotten to meet it. Granted, he only had one side of Faith’s story, and there may have been more to it, but Faith was honest to a fault. He didn’t question for a second that what she told him was the truth.

Looking at her now, any residual doubt slipped away with the tide. He pulled out his cell to text her. Cowardice, for sure, but she was killing him standing there all by herself, wanting acceptance from two people who were too selfish to give it.

I miss you.

She glanced down at her phone and stilled. If not for the swish of her hair in the wind, he’d swear time had stopped.

Painful minutes ticked by.

Just as he was about to make his way over, his parents approached Faith, with Lacey and Jake in tow. Feeling like he’d been dropped in some god-awful mute version of a Shakespearean play, Alec watched from a distance.

Faith said something that made his dad laugh. Before they moved on, Faith handed them a napkin with a brownie as if she were one of the waitstaff.

He followed Faith’s gaze as Lacey introduced her father to his parents. He couldn’t tell from this distance, but he knew that longing, yearning look haunting Faith’s face. Any family dynamic, even a dysfunctional one, had to be better than pretending total ignorance.

He’d forgotten all about the text until Faith glanced at her phone again. After a few seconds, she cast a wayward glance at the guests and crossed her arms as she wandered toward her guesthouse.

Surging into action, Alec pivoted and strode past the beach and mimosa grove to the front of the property, where he could make his way to her place without anyone seeing.

It seemed she didn’t belong anywhere. A party full of people and she was still so alone. Most of the guests were having a great time, which was good. Faith was hoping to drum up enough courage to go introduce herself, but then Alec’s text came, throwing her off.

He missed her? She didn’t know how to feel about that, or if she should believe it. If he missed her, he had a funny way of showing it.

His parents were nice people. His dad was a little too outspoken, but his mother was warm and friendly. Faith got the impression Alec’s dad was just nervous. After all, he used to be the Covingtons’ gardener and now he was invited to beach parties on the estate and his son was marrying the Covingtons’ daughter. Hope used to talk a lot when she was nervous. Endless chatter with no filter.

She opened the back door to the guesthouse and stepped inside. Not bothering with the kitchen light, she made her way to the stove to start the kettle. While she waited for the
water to heat, she glanced out the window over the sink. The bonfire created enough illumination for her to move about, but she didn’t want anyone to know she’d slunk off like a coward, so she kept the lights off. The party had been too much stimulation. Most people didn’t understand that, and it was too hard to explain.

She doubted anyone would notice she was gone anyway, which was fine.

The kettle whistled, shaking her away from her thoughts. She poured the water into a mug and set the tea bag to steep. After locking the kitchen door, just in case a wandering guest should approach, she decided to grab a book and read until she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Perhaps then she’d get out of this pattern of interrupted sleep that had haunted her all week.

“You left the party pretty early.”

Hot tea sloshed over her hand when she whirled. She shook the sting away.

The deep tone of Alec’s familiar voice infiltrated the quiet serenity of the guesthouse. She’d thought she was alone. Assumed, rather. He hadn’t come inside without knocking first any other time.

He leaned against the living room wall by the front door, arms folded over his impressive chest and ankles crossed. No flip-flops or sandals. The sight of his bare feet sent some kind of electrical current to her knees, causing them to weaken. Why was that so sexy? Board shorts in a blue tropical pattern covered his strong thighs and narrow hips. His tee was plain white, but stretched across the muscles in his biceps and broad chest, making her want to be that shirt.

He looked casual, until she caught the tension tightening his shoulders and the wariness in his eyes. Tufts of his black hair stood up on his head, like he’d run his hands through it a half dozen times. It was windy tonight, though. Perhaps nature was the culprit for the bedhead.

She tried to swallow and failed. What was he doing here?
He didn’t want complications or romantic entanglements. He’d called things off. Didn’t he realize how hard it was for her to be near him?

The sting in her hand where the tea had spilled intensified to a throb. It was turning red already. She shook her hand again and set the mug aside.

He shoved off the wall and strode into the kitchen. “Did you burn yourself? Let me see.”

This was silly. It was fine. “I’m . . .”

The thought died away. He brought her hand to his lips and gently blew on the burn, keeping his gray-blue eyes trained to hers. A head-to-toe shiver tore through her body. She made some kind of sound in her throat—a determined whine of surrender or a plea to stop. Either. Both.

He stilled, all but his thumb, which brushed over the rampant pulse in her wrist. “Never, never stop making that noise, Faith. It’s the sexiest thing. You make the same sound when you come.”

Air forced its way into her lungs. Heat pooled between her thighs. Her head got more than a little light.

With a gentle tug, he drew her against him. “I missed you.”

Yeah, but . . . why?

“You said that. In your text. I’m confused.” And incoherent.

“As am I.” Several emotions shifted over his face in the span of a few seconds. He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. Moaned. He drew away and mumbled something about a mermaid before he plunged into the kiss.

She fisted her hands in his shirt and yanked him closer, even as her brain screamed at her to back away. This was maddening, the need and fervor he could evoke. And when he left at the end of summer, if she didn’t die from bewilderment first, she’d succumb to a massive broken heart. But this was what she’d wanted. Experience. Passion. To live.

His arms tightened around her back when he ended the kiss and nuzzled her neck. He sighed heavily. “Mermaids and cupcakes.”

She chewed on her lower lip where she could still taste him. “I wasn’t joking when I said I’m confused.”

He chuckled against the skin below her ear. “I’d explain, but you’d think I’m nuts.”

“Already there.”

He laughed again, sounding rough and sexy. The shadow of his beard scraped her cheek as he drew back to look into her eyes. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What did you say to my father to make him laugh?”

She stared over his shoulder, trying to remember the brief conversation they’d had on the beach. “He jokingly asked if the brownies were safe to eat. I said Ginny and I made them, so the sugar coma was his risk to take.”

A smile lit his eyes, infused his whole face. He shook his head and cupped her cheek. “I got my sweet tooth from him. At least there’s something we have in common.”

They had more than that in common, but that was a conversation for a later time. “Why are you here, Alec?”

The first boom of the fireworks exploded outside, lighting her tiny kitchen in red hues.

He dropped his forehead to hers. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

Because she was naive and tempted to believe him, and because the end result wouldn’t change no matter what he was starting to feel, she slid her hands down his arms and linked their fingers. “Come on. The fireworks are starting.”

His mouth thinned with an exhale. “Fireworks.”

“Yes, fireworks,” she said. A good distraction.

She tugged him by the arm outside, then dropped his hand. The humidity slammed into her at once, dulled only by a soft breeze off the water. The air was scented heavily with brine and salt, a smell she’d grown quite fond of these past weeks.

Leaning against the deck railing, she watched the sky explode with color. The ocean made the sound bounce and echo, but the water reflected the display in panoramic glory.
Faith couldn’t tell exactly where they were setting the fireworks off, but judging by the smoke, she figured it was one of the tiny inlet islands to the south.

Alec came up behind her, sliding his arms under hers and trapping her to the railing. The solid feel of him behind her brought sparks of her own and a strange sense of ease. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and held her close.

At the last boom of the finale, he kissed her hair. “We could go make our own fireworks.” He winced and turned her around. “That was awful. You’d think a writer could come up with something better.”

She smiled through a sigh. “I won’t think less of you.”

He widened his stance to bring her closer. “You don’t think less of anyone.” His brows furrowed as he studied her in the dark, with only the moon for light. “I haven’t written one word all week.”

Writer’s block again. Or still. That’s why he was here. She tried to erase the disappointment from her tone. “Do you want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help. Or do you not like to discuss a work in progress?”

His chest expanded with a breath as he glanced over her shoulder. “I never talk about my books until they’re turned in to my editor, not even with my agent. I’m paranoid about leaks. Other than an approved story idea, my publisher doesn’t know what I’m working on.” Returning his gaze to hers, he brushed the top of her nose with the pad of his thumb. “Your freckles are adorable. My main character has them, too.”

So did he or did he not want to discuss the manuscript? “What’s the character’s name?”

“Amy.”

“A female lead?” All his books had male main characters.

He swallowed. Nodded. “Yes. She has wavy brown hair, about this long.” He touched the ends of her hair, his gaze watching the movement. “Her eyes are amber, but turn honey when confronted. She’s just shy of frail in frame, with
a voice that sounds like a mermaid call and skin that smells like cupcakes.”

Her hands settled on his forearms and may have gripped a little too tight. “Mermaids and cupcakes?”

Offering a barely perceptible nod, he smiled. “Don’t forget the amber eyes. They’re one of my favorite parts.” He shrugged, suddenly looking shy. “What can I say? You inspire me.”

She fisted her pendant and slid it back and forth on the chain. “I’m really confused. What are you doing here, Alec?” Besides breaking her heart and making her desire things she couldn’t have. Why did the one person who had noticed her in twenty-seven years have to be emotionally and physically unavailable?

The smile slipped. “I told you, I missed you.” His gaze ran over her face and hair. “I know I shouldn’t. I should just end it like we tried to do in New York, but I can’t.”

Her heart pounded so loud she was shocked the partygoers on the beach didn’t hear. Things were changing between them faster than the roll of the tide, but with the same force. All the complications and scenarios played out in her head until she could only draw one conclusion.

Why waste time and energy denying the pull? If Hope’s death and Faith’s recent move away from all she knew had taught her nothing else, it was that you only get one chance to live before it flutters away.

She cupped his cheek and smiled. “I offered you the summer. I promise when it’s over and it’s time for you to leave, I won’t make it difficult for you. But you’re the one who called things off, so you’ll have to decide.” She could see the moment her words sank in.

He leaned in as if to kiss her, but hovered over her lips instead, until they shared the same breath. “Faith?”

“Yes?”

“Hold on.”

In a blur of motion, he picked her up, strode through the patio door, and kicked it shut with his foot. Without breaking
stride, he wove through the kitchen and down the short hall to her room. He kicked this door shut, too, and set her on her feet.

Then his mouth crashed over hers and her back was pinned to the door. His hands spread over her ribs and around to her back. The hard, lean length of him pressed against her, so she could feel every delicious ridge beneath her palms.

“Condom?” he breathed.

“In the nightstand.” Where they’d stayed since New York.

The arms around her back shifted as he lifted her and walked to the other side of the room, her toes dragging on the floor. He broke contact for a millisecond to search through her drawer and come up with a foil packet, and then his mouth was crushing hers again. Bruising. Desperate.

Her shirt was gone. The bra, capris, and panties next.

He stared at her, hands flat against the wall on either side of her shoulders. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he shook his head and reached behind his neck to tug off his tee. The shorts followed. He kept his gaze trained on hers when he rolled a condom down his generous length.

“I’ll be thorough next time.”

“Okay,” she breathed. Thorough didn’t really matter to her right now. Him, inside of her, did.

She reached for his hips and brought him to her. Smooth, soft skin over hard muscle. The heat of his body melted her, his kiss drugging. He checked her readiness with one stroke of his finger, and moaned when he found her wet. Aching for more, she ran her hands up his abs, over his nipples, and drew a shudder out of him. Learning what he liked as she went along, she slid her arms around his waist, then lower, to cup his backside.

He inhaled sharply. Dropped his forehead to her shoulder and nipped. Feeling a little more brazen, she worked her hand between their bodies and palmed his erection. He let out a half cry, half moan, and his mouth opened wide against her
sensitive skin. He licked, sucked, and elicited a tremor out of her. She closed her fingers around his shaft and thumbed the tip, urgent for him to claim her body again.

It was like a piano wire snapping. With his knees, he spread her thighs. His hands gripped her hips and lifted. His chest held her in place against the wall as his fingers threaded through hers and trapped her hands above her head. Instinct kicked in, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was much taller than she was, so her body was stretched taut, breasts jutting out and chest heaving in excitement.

He kept her hands pinned with one of his and aligned himself with the other. Just before he entered her, he paused and stared into her eyes. Something connected, fused, between them, something more powerful than their physical bodies. Then he slid home.

It was like coming undone. Every fiber unraveled until her brain shut down and there was only the fullness of him inside of her, the slick friction of their skin and the sound of their mingled breathing. His hands found hers once more, lacing their fingers together above her head and straining the beautiful muscles of his biceps.

“That noise, Faith. That one right there. It drives me out of my damn mind.” He kissed her hard, reared back, and drove deep inside. “Yes. Do it again. Again and again.”

“Alec . . .” Explosion loomed. Her muscles coiled.

He groaned into her ear. Thrust harder, more urgent. “Again. Say my name again.”

Right now, probably at any given time, she’d give him whatever he wanted, any time he asked. Because no one had ever made it like this. Life, companionship, friends . . . sex. Never before. “Alec.”

“Faith.”

That pushed her off the edge of the cliff. Him saying her name with need through gritted teeth, barely holding on himself. She tumbled off into sweet, sweet oblivion. He
tensed against her while the aftershocks trembled, rocked, and finally settled.

Alec let go of her hands and cupped her bottom to spin around and slide to the floor. He stretched his legs out and leaned against the wall. The back of his head landed with a thud.